


The Stars Walk Backward

by boasamishipper



Series: Forged in the Stars [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Developing Relationships, Ensemble Cast, F/F, F/M, Family, Finn-centric, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Finn, Jedi Training, Rescue Missions, Stormtrooper Culture, Stormtrooper Rebellion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2019-09-15 04:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16926762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boasamishipper/pseuds/boasamishipper
Summary: While training with Luke Skywalker, Finn discovers a clue regarding his mother's whereabouts, and Rey struggles to accept recently revealed secrets. Meanwhile, a Stormtrooper rebellion is on the rise, Poe plans a rescue mission, and Kylo Ren's plans for the fate of the galaxy turn sinister... / Sequel to Warped Stars.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...
> 
> EPISODE VIII:  
> THE STARS WALK BACKWARD
> 
> The RESISTANCE has won their first battle against the sinister FIRST ORDER, but the war is not over yet. KYLO REN conferences with SUPREME LEADER SNOKE, desperate to destroy the enemy once and for all.
> 
> Meanwhile, hints of insurgence begin to form among the ranks of the Stormtroopers, who search for a leader to spark their rebellion.
> 
> On the orders of GENERAL LEIA ORGANA, former Stormtrooper FINN and ex-scavenger REY have journeyed to find LUKE SKYWALKER, hoping that the Jedi Master will return from his exile and train them in the ways of the Force…

Finn used to be a Stormtrooper, and Stormtroopers have many rules.

There are rules about weapons and fraternization and when to kill and when to maim. There are rules about orders and Orders. There are rules about who to never disobey. There are enough rules to fill up the cargo hold of every base in the Outer Rims, enough rules to drown in.

But one of the rules that he has grown to disregard since leaving the First Order is this: never trust your instincts. He can still hear Captain Phasma telling him and the other Young Cadets that the only orders a good Stormtrooper follows are those of their commanding officer. In the First Order, she had said, there was no room for improvisation or deviation from the norm.

It had been hard to accept that he was breaking a rule he had diligently followed for twenty-three rotations. Then again, if he hadn't decided to trust his instincts and disregard his orders, he never would have defected from the First Order. He never would have joined the Resistance and become friends with Black Squadron, nor would he have discovered his Force-sensitivity. He never would have met and fallen in love with Rey. And he definitely never would have traveled hundreds of miles with Rey to deliver the lightsaber from Maz's castle back to its rightful owner.

If that's not deviating from the norm, then he doesn't know what is.

After what seems like an eternity of hesitation, Luke Skywalker reaches out to take the lightsaber from Rey. His metal fingers gingerly trace the handle, his expression inscrutable save for the conflicted amazement still shining through. Then he looks up to face both of them again. "Where did you get this?"

Finn exchanges a nervous glance with Rey. "Takodana," he says. "Maz Kanata had it. For safekeeping."

Skywalker snorts. "Of course she did," he says, almost fondly. His voice is hoarse, like he hasn't had much cause to use it over the last several years. Those strange small birds fluttering all over the island don't exactly seem like stunning conversationalists. "Did Maz send you here?"

It's clear from the way he says it that he already knows the answer, but Rey shakes her head anyway. "The Resistance sent us," she says. "Your sister did. Leia."

Skywalker's grip tightens imperceptibly on the lightsaber's handle at the mention of his sister's name. "Why did the Resistance send you? Where are you from?"

Finn opens his mouth and closes it, embarrassed that he doesn't have a proper answer. He had grown up on a First Order base in the Outer Rims, spent several days on Jakku, and lived with the Resistance on D'Qar, but as to where he's from, where he had been born...he has no idea. A sidelong glance at Rey shows that she's also struggling with the question, and when she speaks it appears to be for both of them: "Nowhere."

"No one's from nowhere."

"I'm from Jakku."

"I'm from Tatooine.  _That's_ nowhere." The corners of Skywalker's mouth quirk upward. For a brief instant Finn sees the man Skywalker used to be—the young, confident hero of the Rebellion—but then the moment (and the smile) fades. "Why are you here?"

That takes him slightly aback. Hadn't Skywalker heard Rey's earlier explanation? "We're here because the Resistance sent us," Finn repeats. "The First Order's growing in strength and we can't defeat them without you."

He'd thought that had been a sufficient explanation, but Skywalker shakes his head. "Had that been the only reason, the Resistance would have sent a droid to find me. So I ask again, why are  _you_  here?"

Rey's hand brushes his and clutches it like a lifeline—he can tell that she is just as rattled as he is that Skywalker had taken one look at them and gotten straight to the heart of the matter, but she hides it better. Her eyes flicker to the edge of the island, where the distant waves crash against the shore, and she straightens imperceptibly like she's bracing herself. "Something inside me—inside us—has always been there. And now it's awake. We don't know what it is, or what to do with it. And we need your help."

Her words echo in the clearing, bouncing off the stones around them. Finn's eyes shift between Rey, whose expression is stubbornly hopeful, and Skywalker, who has gone completely still. But instead of giving them a reply or a gesture of acknowledgement, Skywalker just turns on his heel and walks off.

"Wait!" The word escapes before he can stop it, or even think of another one. He takes a step forward, and then another one, his incredulity giving way to anger. He and Rey hadn't traveled hundreds of miles on General Organa's orders just to be ignored when they ask for help. "Don't just—you can't just walk away without giving us an answer!"

Skywalker walks toward a path that meanders down the side of the island, tossing one last comment over his shoulder before he disappears. "Isn't this answer enough?"

 _Maybe so,_  Finn thinks,  _but it's not an answer that I'm going to accept_. Nor is it an answer that Rey has accepted: she is holding her staff in a white-knuckled grip and her jaw is clenched tight enough to grind her teeth to dust. "I can't believe this."

"I know. You'd have thought General Organa would have warned us that her brother is just as stubborn as she is." Finn's pleased that he manages to elicit a laugh from Rey even through her anger. He sits down on a nearby rock, propping his chin on his hands. "What should we do?"

"We need him to hear us out," Rey says. "And we can't do that by force—he'd overpower both of us in seconds."

Finn doesn't doubt that for an instant. Even if he and Rey had both held their own against Kylo Ren, Skywalker could probably still beat them with one hand tied behind his back. "Then I guess there's nothing to do but go after him," he says decisively.

Rey offers her hand to him, and he gratefully takes it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet before the two of them take off after Skywalker.

The mud mixed in with the rocks and the overgrown grass makes the path that Skywalker had taken difficult to navigate. Finn has to grab Rey's shoulder several times in order to keep his balance. By the time the path evens out and comes to a stop in another clearing, he is breathing heavily and his muscles ache from fatigue.

It's much foggier down here; less green and more gray, harder to see. Uneven chunks of mountain are just visible in the distance, and if he concentrates he can still hear the ocean waves splashing against the rocks near the shore. There's something else several feet away, something that he can't quite make out through the mist. "Can you see that?" he asks Rey. "That weird structure up ahead?"

Rey's eyes narrow. "A little. We ought to get a closer look."

The weird structure up ahead turns out to be a tree, but it's the largest tree he's ever seen. It's almost as big as the conventional junction station back on Starkiller Base. The trunk is warped with age and dotted with green and graying moss, and the branches spiraling from the trunk are bare. There's a doorway-shaped hole in the side, and his hand slides to the blaster holstered at his hip as he and Rey enter.

Leaves and dirt crunch under his feet as he slowly walks to the center of this strange dwelling. A shelf-like structure sits against the wall, and a stack of books are illuminated by a thin beam of sunlight wafting through the branches. Finn steps forward to take a closer look at them—just a look, as he's afraid they'll fall apart if he touches them. The titles are in a language he doesn't understand, so he turns to Rey to ask if she can decipher the symbols but his question comes to an abrupt halt. "You okay?"

"I…" She seems on edge, almost jumpy in a way that she has never been in all the time that Finn has known her. For some reason this place is really freaking her out. "I know it sounds strange, but I could've sworn that...that I've been here before. For some reason this place is familiar."

Thrown for a loop, Finn stares. He has no idea how that's possible as Rey had never left Jakku until they'd gone on the run from the First Order, but she sounds so sure that he believes her anyway. "Maybe you saw it in a dream or something," he offers, remembering the strange visions he'd had of Pava and Kylo Ren after he'd crash-landed on Jakku. "What is this place, anyway?"

"It was built a thousand generations ago." Rey startles and Finn turns around so quickly that he nearly gets whiplash. Sure enough, Luke Skywalker is standing in the entrance of the small room, the lightsaber still in his hand. "To keep these." He nods at the stack of books on the shelf. "The original Jedi texts. Just like me, they're the last of the Jedi religion." He steps forward, his brow furrowing as he looks closer at Rey. "You've seen this place. You've seen this island."

Rey's voice is so soft that it is almost lost in the whistling of the wind outside. "Only in my dreams."

Her answer seems to perturb Skywalker even further, and he frowns at them. "Who are you?"

As Rey is too lost in her thoughts to speak, the duty falls to Finn. "I'm Finn," he says. It's been weeks since he'd chosen that name and yet he still feels an odd little thrill every time he says Finn instead of FN-2187. "And she's Rey." At the sound of Rey's name, Skywalker stiffens like someone has just raised a hand to him. Come to think of it, the action reminds Finn of Solo's reaction when Rey introduced herself on the Millennium Falcon, but he chooses not to dwell on that now. "Master Skywalker, we came here because we need your help. We need someone to show us our place in all this."

Skywalker's shoulders slump, and his defeated expression makes him look about twenty years older. "You need a teacher," he says. "I know. But I can't teach you. I'm sorry."

"What?" Refusing to do it is one thing, but if it's a question of actually being unable to do it… "Why not?"

This is, apparently, the wrong thing to ask. One second Skywalker is across the room and the next second they're face to face. Rey immediately moves to Finn's side, her staff half-raised defensively, and Finn's hand only leaves his holstered blaster once Skywalker takes a step back. "Why not?" He sounds exhausted, like he's given up on everything. "Because I couldn't save my students from being slaughtered by the Knights of Ren. I couldn't prevent my nephew from turning to the Dark Side, and I couldn't stop Snoke and the First Order from gaining so much power in the first place." He squeezes his eyes shut, taking a moment to collect himself before opening them again. "I will never train another generation of Jedi. I came to this island to die." He reaches out and gives the lightsaber back to Rey before turning his back to them. "Take it from me, kid. It's time for the Jedi to end."

Skywalker is almost to the entrance of the dwelling when Rey breaks the silence. "No."

"What?"

"No." She shakes her head, clearly still determined to make Skywalker see sense. Finn admires that, as he's fresh out of ideas of what to say to convince Skywalker to help him. "I understand wanting to hide from a world that's caused you so much pain, and not wanting to move forward, but we came here for your help. The galaxy still needs the Jedi, the Light—it needs Luke Skywalker."

"Kylo Ren and the First Order will slaughter millions of innocent people if you just sit by and do nothing," Finn adds, his stomach twisting at the mere thought of the weapons that the First Order has at their disposal. "It'll make the destruction of the Hosnian System look like—"

"The Hosnian System?" Skywalker whirls around, his voice and eyes sharp. "What happened to the Hosnian System?"

For the second time in less than five minutes, Finn is thoroughly thrown for a loop. He exchanges an uneasy glance with Rey, who looks like she isn't sure if Skywalker is messing with them or not.  _Only one way to find out, I guess_. "It...it was destroyed. By Starkiller Base. Like what the Empire did to Alderaan, but on a much larger scale." He searches Skywalker's face for any hint of recognition, only finding horror and dismay. "You...you didn't sense that? Through the Force?"

Skywalker does not reply.

"You disconnected yourself from the Force, didn't you." It's not a question, it's a statement. Skywalker doesn't deny it. "I heard stories about that growing up, but I didn't know…" Rey doesn't finish her sentence, but Finn hears its conclusion all the same:  _I didn't know if it was true or not._  "Why did you do that?"

"The pain of losing so many people I cared about…it was too hard to bear." Finn remembers Solo's story about how Luke had lost his wife and child and feels a pang of guilt and sadness. He may understand why Skywalker had turned away from the Force and exiled himself on Ahch-To, but he doesn't agree. After all, he hadn't given into despair when Rey had been kidnapped by Kylo Ren…

Rey seems to be thinking along the same lines. "Well, we both lost someone we cared about and we didn't turn away from the Force," she says bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm sorry," Skywalker says, quiet but genuine. "I…who did you lose?"

Finn opens his mouth and closes it. He doesn't want to be the bearer of bad news, but if Skywalker hadn't known about the destruction of the Hosnian System, then he must have missed another event as well. "Our friend," he finally says, his grief threatening to choke him. "Your friend. Han Solo."

* * *

After listening to Finn and Rey's explanation of everything that had happened in the last few weeks, Luke is grateful that they allow him a moment to collect himself. He hadn't been able to stand the pity in their eyes when they told him about the Resistance's ongoing battle against the First Order, or how many people had been killed as a result of the destruction of the Hosnian System. Or how Han had died.

Luke sinks into the booth that encases the dejarik table, smiling faintly as he recalls Threepio playing against Chewie at this very table on their way to Alderaan, how Han had smirked around his comment that Wookiees tended to rip out people's arms when they lost. How, many months later, Leia had trounced Han so thoroughly at dejarik that his stupefied reaction had nearly made Luke cry from laughter.

So much has changed since then. They're all older, greyer, more jaded. Leia is alone on D'Qar, somehow managing a rebellion deep in battle against the sinister First Order. He has sequestered himself on this island to look for answers that he knows in his soul will never be enough. And Han is dead, killed by the son that he had loved more than anything in the galaxy. By the son that Luke had failed to help.

And now these two—a former Stormtrooper and a former scavenger—have come to him on Leia's orders for help that he can no longer give. He hadn't regretted turning away from the Force all those years ago, but now his guilt threatens to choke him. They want him to train them in the ways of the Force so they can take down Ben (no, not Ben anymore, Kylo Ren) once and for all, but he can't. He  _can't_.

 _Don't lie to me, Luke_ , he imagines Mara saying.  _The desire to be out there saving the galaxy is so thick in your blood I can hear it screaming from here._

He lets out a shuddering breath, lowering his head into his hands. Fourteen years since her death and he still misses his wife so much that it feels like a constant ache under his ribs. And his beloved daughter, who he can still picture so clearly in his mind's eye. Her brown hair and toothy smile. The fuss she'd kick up when she couldn't have sweets before dinner. The way she would come running to him on his trips back from the Jedi school, shrieking with joy as he twirled her around while Mara laughed…

The girl from Jakku shares his daughter's name. That had been a surprise.

He can tell that Finn and Rey are both strong in the Force, stronger than he has seen since—well, since Kylo Ren. But it's clear that these two are nothing like his wayward nephew.  _Besides, if Ben Kenobi hadn't agreed to train me, I never would have left Tatooine, or met Han and Leia. I never would have found out about my family, or helped blow up the Death Star. The Empire would have won._

_If I don't help them, who knows what will happen to the galaxy?_

* * *

Night falls not long after they leave Skywalker to his thoughts in the Millennium Falcon, bringing with it a biting cold wind (making her grateful for the shawl Leia had packed for her) and thousands of droplets of water pouring from the sky. Rain.

She's never seen rain before. Jakku's storms had only kicked up sand and dust and grit and a shrieking wind that had made her stuff her ears with cotton to block out the noise. But this—the smell, the sound, the sight…

"I can't believe this is real," Rey marvels. "Water just…falls from the sky here. And everyone has enough to drink, and there's so much green and everything is growing and…" Her voice catches in her throat. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah." Finn's voice is shaky too. She wonders if this is his first time seeing the rain, or if he's never taken the time to really look at it before. But then he's nudging her on the shoulder, grinning like it's the easiest thing in the world. "Let's go out in it."

That startles an incredulous laugh out of her. "What?"

"Come on, it'll be fun."

He offers his hand to her, and she lets him pull her out into the rain. The raindrops patter against her skin and drip down her face, coinciding with the roar of the ocean waves splashing up against the cliffs, and it's  _amazing_. The mud squishes underneath her feet as she and Finn twirl around and laugh at each other's exaggerated antics, and she feels truly free for the first time since they had danced in her AT-AT.

"Tomorrow at dawn."

Rey turns around so quickly that she nearly trips and takes Finn down with her. Skywalker stands beneath the roof of the Falcon, watching them with a strange look on his face. Strange, yet familiar. "What?"

"I'll teach you the ways of the Jedi," he says. "Everything you need to know. In return, you'll go back to the Resistance without me and help Leia take down the First Order once and for all. We'll start tomorrow at dawn."

Part of her wants to contest his decision to not return to the Resistance with them, but he had agreed to teach them, and that concession is far more than she had expected. Besides, maybe over the course of their lessons she and Finn can convince Skywalker to come back with them anyway. So she nods. "Should we meet you in the clearing?"

"No," he says. "I'll come to you." He pulls his hood up over his head, giving them one last searching look. "Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my new readers, welcome! To my old readers, welcome back! This fic has been a long time in the making, and I’m very excited to finally be able to share it with you all. Barring any RL complications, updates will be every two weeks.
> 
> Stay tuned for Chapter II, in which a First Order officer is captured, Black Squadron is dealt a shocking revelation, and the beginnings of a Stormtrooper rebellion ignite.


	2. Chapter 2

Located on the desert world of Cantonica, Canto Bight is a casino city and playground for the galaxy's ultra-rich. It's a place of both opportunity and high stakes, filled with casinos, racetracks, and other expensive distractions. It also seems to be the only place in the galaxy that's actually benefited from the New Republic's recent disarray. Not that that's much of a shock—most of the casino's patrons are war profiteers, and war doesn't take a day off, not even out of respect for the millions lost in the destruction of the Hosnian System.

Traveling here hadn't been Poe's idea, far from it. He'd rather be on the receiving end of a court martial than stay one more day on Canto Bight, but General Organa had ordered Black Squadron to track down Lieutenant Mitaka, a First Order officer who the Resistance's intel had spotted somewhere in this cesspool of glitz and glamor. Mitaka used to work on Starkiller Base, and the information that he possesses could help the Resistance take down the First Order once and for all.

And for the chance to help the cause—the cause that Pava had given her life for—no risk is too great.

The casino is packed with people and aliens of all races and genders, each dressed fancier than the one before. The dinging of the slot machines mixes together with the sound of poker chips clacking and the chatter of people throwing down credits and coins in the hopes of hitting it big. A Wookiee is standing in the corner taking bets on podracing, nuna-ball, and Odupiendo racing, all of which are displayed on the surrounding telescreens. Poe leans against a column in the back, watching the crowd go by in the hopes that Mitaka will stumble past him. Casually, his hand goes to his earpiece. "Anyone seen the target yet?"

" _Not yet, Black Leader,"_  comes Karé's apologetic voice. Last he'd seen her, she'd been on one of the balconies watching the fathier races. Poe hopes that whatever bigshot tycoon had been flirting with her earlier had escaped with his pride and bones intact.

" _No luck here either,"_ Snap answers. He's sitting at one of the jhabacc tables, staring down at his cards. Poe can just make out the back of Snap's head from his current position. " _It's still early though."_

Poe sighs. True as that may be, he doesn't feel like waiting around any longer—he needs to at least pretend he's doing something productive. "Fair," he concedes, careful to keep his voice down. "I'm heading to the bar. Give a shout if you spot anything."

" _Roger that, Black Leader."_

Pushing off the column, he moves through the middle of the casino and takes the nearest empty sweat at the long metallic bar. The bartender—a lithe Zabrak with silver skin and moonblue horns—barely looks up from the glass she's polishing. "What can I get for you?"

"Black ale, please," Poe says, and thanks the bartender when he receives his drink. The glass is chrome-plated silver, shiny enough that he can see his own slightly-warped expression. Some of the patrons give him a respectful nod as they pass him by, and that makes the alcohol curdle in his stomach. If there's one thing he hates more than this terrible place, it's the worst people in the galaxy treating him like he  _belongs_ in this terrible place.

"I'll have a glass of Corellian merlot," says a voice to Poe's right, and it takes every ounce of willpower Poe has to not choke on his ale. Instead, he takes another sip and casually glances to the side, taking in as much as he can in the span of a second. Small stature, dark hair, shoulders stiff in civilian clothes. This is their man. "Leave the bottle."

Poe decides to speak up after Mitaka pours himself a second glass of merlot and knocks it back the same way most people knock back firewater on Life Day. "Had a rough day?"

Mitaka startles, looking rather bewildered at the question. "What?"

"Just asked if you had a rough day." Poe nods at the wine glass in the other man's hand. "Seems like you're drinking to forget rather than to have fun."

"Oh." Mitaka's shoulders slump and he drains the rest of his drink dramatically, like continuing this conversation will require all the liquid courage he can get. "It's been a…difficult few days. I lost my job."

"Sorry to hear that," Poe says, even though he's never been less sorry about anything in his life. He takes another sip of ale as a pair of Neimoidians pass by, their own gilded glasses in hand. "It's been a difficult few days all around. You hear about the Hosnian System?"

Mitaka's fingers tap quickly on the counter. "It'd be hard not to hear about it," he says with a nervous chuckle. "It's on every telescreen in the galaxy; impossible to miss."

Poe hums noncommittally. He could stretch out the small talk for a few seconds longer—at least until Karé and Snap make their way over to the bar—but his instincts are screaming at him to start showing his cards now. "Yeah," he says, keeping his voice low and calm. "I hear you're the type of person with…insider information on that."

The blow lands. Mitaka straightens like he's been stuck with a pin. "How did you—"

"How'd I know that?" Poe's grin is sharp and adrenaline is pumping through his veins even though he's done nothing more strenuous than talk and take sips of his drink. "I know a lot of things. You've become pretty famous, Lieutenant. On both sides of the war."

To his credit, Mitaka's voice stays remarkably steady even as his hands spasm in his lap. "So which side of the war are you on?"

"The side that's a bit more lenient toward First Order deserters," Poe retorts. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a flash of bleached-blond hair and lavender fabric and knows that Karé's heading this way, so he lays the rest of his cards on the table. "The Resistance wants information. Come quietly, and we'll be lenient. If you don't cooperate, you'll be someone else's problem. Defection from the First Order's punishable by more than just a dishonorable discharge, isn't it?" He leans forward in his chair, waiting, watching. "So what's it going to be?"

In answer, Mitaka smashes the bottle of Corellian merlot against the counter and lunges out of his chair.

Poe launches himself backwards, barely dodging the jagged edge of the bottle as he falls out of his chair and onto the floor with a thud. His fight-or-flight instincts kick in and he throws a punch at Mitaka that the smaller man actually dodges. Most of the people around them are screaming while a few are cursing at him and Mitaka for interrupting their concentration, and Poe can't bring himself to give a damn about any of them.

Neither of them have landed a blow yet, so he decides to change the game. He grabs Mitaka by the wrist and uses the momentum to shove him back against the bar counter in the hopes of knocking him out, but that only succeeds in making Mitaka drop the bottle on the floor. Now they're both fighting hand to hand—at least until Mitaka pulls out a switchblade.  _Shit._

Poe ducks Mitaka's punch and sidesteps the next one as their brawl moves away from the bar and towards the card tables. Snap is yelling in his earpiece and Karé's pushing her way through the crowd and Poe grabs someone's purse—the closest thing he can reach—and throws it at Mitaka's head. His aim's a little off and it sails right over the other man's head, hitting an older alien woman on the back of the neck, so he grabs a nearby chair and uses it to knock Mitaka off his feet.

It doesn't work as well as he'd expected. Poe falls down from the momentum and Mitaka flies backwards and crashes into Snap, whose grip he escapes with minimal effort. But he doesn't keep his bearings for very long because Karé is suddenly there, emptying the contents of a syringe into Mitaka's neck. Instantly Mitaka slumps to the ground, out for the count at last.

Poe accepts Karé's outstretched hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet. "Nice moves, Karé," he praises. To the stunned civilians all around them, he says, "New Republic business. Go back to your drinks."

Unsurprisingly, most of them do—but not without loudly scoffing about all the commotion and spouting their opinions on how low-class scum like them should never have been allowed inside. Poe swears that as soon as the war is over, he will take great pleasure in burning this Force-forsaken place to the ground.

Poe turns back to face his friends, and whatever snarky comment he'd been about to make dies in his throat as his heart seizes in panic.

Snap is bleeding. Snap is leaning heavily against Karé and Mitaka's knife is buried to the hilt in his side and he's bleeding. He's hurt.

Poe is by his friend's side before he even registers moving. Karé's already fiddling with the rip in Snap's suit jacket, pulling it away slightly to see the torn flesh and the blade. The good news is there's not a lot of blood. The bad news is neither he nor Karé can tell how deep the blade is buried.

"It must be holding in the circulation," Karé is saying, her voice strident with suppressed panic. "We can't take it out here."

Snap winces. He's already going pale, paler than normal. Poe directs him to one of the few chairs left abandoned and unbroken by the fight. "Do I get a say in this?"

"No," Poe and Karé say together.

While Karé rings up Oddy on the shared commslink and tells him to bring the ship around right kriffing now, Poe's eyes fall to Lieutenant Mitaka, who looks for all the world like he's just curled up to take a nap on the floor.  _You had better be worth all this trouble, you prick._

"You're gonna be just fine, buddy," Poe promises. Snap's weak grin is only somewhat reassuring. "Karé, you grab Mitaka. Snap, you lean on me. Let's get back to base."

* * *

Snap Wexley's surgery has just concluded by the time Leia makes her way toward the interrogation rooms in the basement of the administration building, and from the looks of it, he's going to be just fine. He'll be laid up for a few days—which will definitely end up spurring some arguments between him and Dr. Kalonia—but should be back in his X-Wing in no time. Considering the recent losses of Jessika Pava and Markus Dinoa, it seems like Black Squadron's luck is changing for the better.

They could all use some good luck right about now.

Leia schools her expression as she enters the interrogation room and shuts the door behind her. Handcuffed to a chair in the center of the room is Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka, the target of Black Squadron's mission. He's smaller and slighter than she'd expected; younger, too. He doesn't speak or outwardly react as she moves closer, and his eyes follow her as she circles around him.

"So," she says once a full minute of silence has passed and Mitaka has begun to shift awkwardly in his chair. "Do you know who I am?"

To his credit, Mitaka meets her gaze unflinchingly. "Yes. You're General Leia Organa. Former princess of Alderaan, sister of Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, current head of the Resistance." He recites it quickly, like he's reading a bulleted list of information that he knows by heart.

"Very good. And you're Dopheld Mitaka. You graduated at the top of your Academy class, served in the First Order as a lieutenant, and recently went AWOL following the destruction of Starkiller Base." Surprise flickers across his face and disappears just as quickly. With the records that Maz and Lieutenant Connix had drawn up, she probably knows Mitaka better than his own mother. "And you have information that I want."

"Maybe," he says. Clearly the last few hours have given him some time to come up with a strategy. "But I'm not talking until there's something in it for me."

That makes her laugh. "I don't believe you're in any position to negotiate, Mr. Mitaka. For all I know, you don't know enough to earn a drink of  _water._  And if that's the case, the New Republic is still strong enough to sentence you to a lifetime in prison—though considering the depth of your crimes, you'll be lucky if they don't just throw you in a rancor pit to rot." She leans forward, keeping her voice soft but no less menacing. "So if you want to deal, I suggest you stop negotiating and start talking. Then, and only then, we can talk about what your information buys you."

Silence. Mitaka eyes Leia nervously (good, that means she's still got it in her after all these years) before giving her a defeated nod. "Alright," he says. "What do you want to know?"

The next few minutes pass in a series of short questions and rambling answers. Mitaka had been on the lower side of the First Order's hierarchy and therefore hadn't had security clearance for much of the information that Leia actually needs, which is rather disappointing. Still, it's not all bad. Now that Starkiller Base has been destroyed, the First Order will be down on weapons and manpower, and the other Star Destroyers will be less effectively protected.

"I think that the higher members in the leadership realized that the Resistance would destroy Starkiller Base at some point, so they began relocating their engineering projects and personnel to ships like the  _Finalizer_ ," Mitaka explains. They've started to veer away from facts and toward speculation, but speculation is better than nothing. "That and their prisoners."

"Their prisoners." She can almost  _hear_  Poe and Karé and everyone who's listening in on the other side of the one-way mirror lean forward in their chairs, and she straightens imperceptibly. "What sort of prisoners do you mean? Civilians?"

"No." Mitaka seems to realize that he's struck gold, and he sits up straight in his chair. "Not just civilians, anyway. But in exchange for this information—"

She holds up a hand, stopping his words in their tracks. "I believe that the terms of this agreement were that you would negotiate less and talk more, Mr. Mitaka. Or do I need to remind you about the rancor pits again?"

His shoulders slump again. Good. "We keep civilians prisoner in work camps planetside. Too much hassle to house them on our ships — that's where we keep dissident Troopers or officers, and…" He swallows hard. "And rebel prisoners."

Leia's mouth goes dry. "And who from the Resistance is the First Order currently holding captive?" she asks, even though part of her already suspects the answer to her question.

Mitaka does not disappoint. "A pilot," he says, "by the name of Jessika Pava."

* * *

Slip has spent his entire life feeling out of his element. He's a sorry excuse for a Stormtrooper, or so his instructors and fellow cadets have often said. His battleprep scores are in the single digits, his combat skills are a joke, and he can't even hit the broad side of an enemy X-Wing nine times out of ten. He's awkward and tries too hard and can never fit in no matter what he does. But the chaos of the last few weeks have made him feel even more out of his element than ever before.

To start, Eight-Seven's abrupt defection to the Resistance, a strange broadcast and even stranger excuses from higher command had led Slip to seek answers from a scavenger girl that Kylo Ren had imprisoned. There, he'd listened in shock to the girl's explanation that Eight-Seven (now named Finn) really had been a Stormtrooper and left the First Order because it was (to him) the right thing to do. Then Zeroes of all Troopers—who barely said two words to Slip if he could avoid it—had said that he believed Slip and the girl's story. And then he'd helped fish Captain Phasma out of the trash compactors, escaped Starkiller Base just before it was destroyed by the Resistance, and was now stationed on the  _Finalizer._ Honestly, it's enough to make anyone's head spin.

Life on the  _Finalizer_ is far different from life on Starkiller Base. There's a lot more focus on combat training and battlepreps than on the Morning and Afternoon and Night Speeches. The base commander, General Henry Kilson, is flinty-eyed and twice as deadly as a pack of rathtars; rumor has it that he doles out harsh punishments for even the slightest indiscretions, so all the Troopers try their best to steer clear of him. The squadrons are much larger and split up according to battleprep scores, which means that Nines (who had the second highest scores after Eight-Seven) is in one unit and Slip and Zeroes are in another. Their squadron is made up of the First Order's misfits, the ones with the low scores and awkward demeanors, the ones who don't quite fit the mold.

And it is those people with whom Slip and Zeroes have decided to share the story of Finn.

The idea had been pretty spontaneous, if he's being honest. One second he and Zeroes were telling the others about where they'd previously been stationed, and the next second a hush fell over the room because a young Trooper had asked if they'd known FN-2187. No one had threatened to report the Trooper for reconditioning or changed the subject; they'd all just stared at him and Zeroes expectantly. After a moment, Zeroes had nodded, and then Slip (in a moment of pure adrenaline) offered to tell all the Troopers present the story of FN-2187 in three days time during dormancy hours. All of them had agreed.

And now here he is, standing slack-jawed in a room packed to the corners with more Troopers than he can count, some of whom aren't even from their squadron. Zeroes seems to notice this as well and says under his breath to Slip, "Where the helmet did they all come from?"

"I...I don't know." Slip's mouth tastes like copper and he feels like he's going to throw up. He's never spoken in front of this many people before and his brain is screaming at him to cancel the meeting before he royally screws up. "I guess the news spread."

"Hopefully not into the wrong hands."

Slip nods, hoping with all his might that that's true. The last thing they need is for this to be stifled before it can even begin. He turns to face the room, looking out at Troopers of all ages and races and genders, aliens and human, young and old. It's incredible that so many have come, and he vows to not disappoint them. "Uh. Hi." A bead of sweat forms over his upper lip. "My name's FN-2003. Y-you can call me Slip. And I used to be stationed on—on Starkiller Base."

"It blew up," pipes up one of the littler ones here. She's not from his squadron but he's seen her around in the mess hall and on sanitation duty. Her designation is JN-0211, and she likes to be called Elevens, or Levs for short. "How are you here?"

"Clearly he escaped, buckethead," says another. This one actually is from his squadron. Slip can't remember his designation but knows that he goes by Jate. He looks to be around sixteen or seventeen rotations, and he's short and skinny with royal blue scales around his eyes that clash against the deep brown of his skin. His tone suggests that he and Levs are good friends; he probably invited her to the meeting. "Listen up and save your questions."

Zeroes chooses to answer Levs's question. "Captain Phasma was stuck in…uh, in a precarious situation." Even if Captain Phasma isn't on the ship, Slip still kind of believes she'll kill him where he stands if he tells anyone what had really happened, so he doesn't blame Zeroes for keeping his mouth shut. "And Slip here," Slip gives a small wave, "and me and another soldier named Nines helped her out of it. We were nearest to the escape pods and got away before the base and planet blew up."

Levs nods, and Jate does too.

"Anyway," Slip says. "I used to be in a unit of four. Me, Zeroes, Nines, and FN-2187." He waits for them to hiss or flinch or stubbornly insist that Finn was a Resistance plant who betrayed the First Order, but they're silent. Watching him. Waiting. "FN-2187 was given a mission by Captain Phasma to infiltrate the Resistance and bring it down from the inside. To do this, he pretended to defect and escaped the base overnight. He kept in touch with Captain Phasma through a wristband that acted as a communications device, saying that he'd bring the First Order a map that led to Luke Skywalker."

The room is quiet. Even Zeroes stays silent. This is longest Slip has gone without stuttering during a speech and he intends to keep going.

"But then he got in touch with Captain Phasma and said he wouldn't do it anymore. Said the First Order was cruel and he wouldn't be a part of it anymore. And that led to a chase across the galaxy, and when his friend—a girl from Jakku—was taken by Kylo Ren," this earns a few eye rolls and snorts because everyone hates Kylo Ren, "FN-2187 broke into Starkiller Base with the help of Han Solo and got her out, and he and the girl escaped before the planet blew up."

"So," ventures another Trooper that Slip vaguely recognizes, "he wasn't a Resistance plant?"

"No. He was as much of a Trooper as you and me. And he defected. He left." Slip swallows hard. "I went to see the girl in secret when she was being held on base. She told me that FN-2187 goes by another name now. Finn."

That sends a rumble through the crowd. A name. FN-2187 had named himself. Slip was just as surprised by this news when the girl had told him, so he waits until all the murmurs have died down.

"I know what you've been told to believe. But trust what I've seen. What I've heard. I was in his unit. I've known him since I was fourteen rotations old. FN-2187 was a Stormtrooper. He wasn't a mole. He was one of us and he left the First Order—the only home he ever had—because he knew it was the right thing to do." Slip looks at Zeroes, at Levs and Jate, at everyone. This is the moment that will make it or break it. "And if he could do it, why can't we?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for your lovely response on the last chapter; I'm really glad that you guys are enjoying the fic so far!
> 
> Stay tuned for Chapter III, in which Kylo Ren conferences with Supreme Leader Snoke, Leia authorizes a rescue mission, and Finn and Rey's Jedi training begins.
> 
> Also, if anyone was wondering, my fancasts for the Stormtroopers are Ki Hong Lee as Slip, Lakeith Stanfield as Zeroes, and Dacre Montgomery as Nines (whom we have definitely not seen the last of yet).


	3. Chapter 3

The scavenger girl had bested him.

His rage threatens to make him shake every time he thinks about it. He, a Knight of Ren, the apprentice of Supreme Leader Snoke, had been defeated in a lightsaber battle by a scavenger from the most backwater planets in the Western Reaches. She had stolen his grandfather's lightsaber from him, the rightful heir to the Skywalker bloodline. And she had wounded him.

His hand goes briefly to his helmet, to the spot where the scar now mars his face. And it is no small scar either; it begins at his hairline and continues in a jagged line down his right cheek. In the infirmary, the First Order medics had offered to heal the wound completely, but he had refused. He needs it as a reminder of his failure, a reminder that next time he will not let the scavenger girl or the former Trooper get the better of him.

The elevator doors open, and he steps forward into the chambers of Supreme Leader Snoke. The room is decorated in the same manner as the other First Order warships, all dark and steel, and the only light comes from a window behind the Supreme Leader's blood-red throne, which is flanked by two Knights of Ren. He can feel the guards staring at him but ignores them as he kneels, keeping his eyes on the man before him.

"The mighty Kylo Ren." Snoke's voice contains no warmth. "When I found you, I saw what all masters live to see. Raw, untamed power…and the potential of your bloodline. I assumed you would rise to my expectations. Become a new Vader." His eyes (a sharp blue) narrow as he leans forward in his seat. "Now I see…I was mistaken."

His heart constricts.  _Mistaken?_ "I've given everything I have to you, Master. To the Dark Side—"

Snoke suddenly stands up, and all the air vanishes from the room. The light from the window catches against the scars on Snoke's face—the scars that he had sustained in his battle against Luke Skywalker so many years ago—and Kylo Ren swallows hard. "Everything? I think not."

"I killed Han Solo. When the moment came I didn't hesitate—"

"And what came after?" Snoke's voice goes low and dangerous and echoes around the chambers, and the Knights of Ren at his side stiffen. "The deed split your spirit to the bone. You were bested by a girl who had never held a lightsaber—and by a former Stormtrooper as well! You  _failed._ " Snoke steps closer, his dark robes billowing around him. "Skywalker lives. And as long as Skywalker lives, as long as the Resistance prevails, hope does as well. I thought you would be the one to snuff it out, but as I said…I was mistaken."

Part of him—the weak part, the part of Ben Solo he has not yet been able to destroy—wants to look away, but he grits his teeth and keeps his head up. "Master," he says, feeling as though he has purged these words from the depths of his soul, "I take full responsibility for—"

Snoke raises a single hand, and Kylo Ren's words slam into each other and stop cold. "Your apologies are of no use to me," he says coldly. "We must now plan for the future if the next battle is to begin in our favor." Kylo Ren nods tightly, biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, and Snoke continues. "We have crippled the New Republic, yet the Resistance lives on."

"Let me destroy them." His anger boils the blood that is thrumming in his veins, and he forgets that it is not his turn to speak. "General Hux told me he tracked the location of the main base to the Ileenium System—let me go there, Master, and I will bring the full power of the First Order with me—"

"Silence." The word comes out softly, barely audible, but deadly all the same. "You know as well as I do that the Resistance cannot be obliterated as easily as Starkiller Base. What we must do now is prevent their cause from shining so brightly."

That makes him look up.  _Does he mean…_ "The Last Resort."

Snoke inclines his head. "If implemented properly, victory may yet be ours." His eyes bore into Kylo Ren's even through the helmet, and the temperature in the room seems to drop twenty degrees. "Provided you do not fail me again."

* * *

In the split second that it takes for Mitaka's admission to register, the side room falls into chaos. Oddy and L'ulo immediate start debating about whether Mitaka's telling the truth about Pava or not. Karé's legs give out from under her and she has to be helped to a chair by Admiral Ackbar and Colonel Brance. Lieutenant Connix is simultaneously shuffling through numerous holocharts and trying to get the rest of high command on the comms so they can be filled in on this new development. And Poe—he doesn't know what to think. Adrenaline is rushing through his veins and blood is pounding a staccato against his brain, making him feel like he just did the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs. He's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't even notice General Organa reentering the room until she calls for quiet.

"General," Poe says, somehow managing to keep his voice steady. Through the one-way mirror he can see Mitaka straining in his chair and trying to get comfortable, but the former First Order officer is quiet now that he's said all that needs to be said. "Is what he said true? About Pava being alive?"

General Organa sighs, and for a moment she looks as though she has aged fifty years in a single breath. But then her shoulders straighten and her eyes (as sharp as ever) meet his, and she answers, "It's hard to say. I was never as good as sensing truth through the Force as Luke was. But considering the wealth of information he shared, I'm inclined to believe that he was telling the truth about Captain Pava as well."

"It could be a trap, General," Admiral Ackbar warns, as has become his trademark over the past several years. Major Ematt, who's still half-kneeling beside Karé's chair, rolls his eyes. "Then again, if the information he shared with you was valid…" He turns to Lieutenant Connix, who answers at once.

"It does seem in line with what we've already gleaned from Finn and our own intelligence officers." She pulls up a holochart, enlarging it so that the facts and figures are visible to the members of high command long enough for them to nod in approval before she minimizes it and puts it away. "Not to mention it's in his own best interest to tell us the truth."

Poe's gaze returns to room on the other side of the one-way mirror, where Mitaka is now staring at his shoes. He doesn't have the bearing of a man who's manipulated General Organa and the Resistance; instead, he looks like a man whose sole interest is self-preservation, and would spill any information if it meant he would survive.  _He must be telling the truth. He's got to be._

General Organa is speaking again, and he makes an effort to tune in. "Admiral, Colonel, move Mitaka to an isolated cell, remove his restraints and give him something to eat and drink. Lieutenant Connix, get the interim chancellor on the comms. Fill her in and tell her I'll be there shortly. Major Ematt, you fill in the rest of high command; we'll meet in the conference room in an hour to continue discussing our next steps." The officers in question file out of the room, leaving Poe, Oddy, L'ulo, and Karé alone with General Organa.

Poe hopes that someone has thought to tell Snap about this new development—provided he's still alive, anyway. Something in his eyes must give his thoughts away, because General Organa says gently, "I thought you all should know, Captain Wexley made it through surgery. Dr. Kalonia says he'll be laid up for a few days, but he should be fine in the long run."

Poe lets out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding. Oddy and L'ulo exchange relieved sighs of their own, and Karé wipes away more tears. "Good. That's—that's good." He can feel the exhaustion in his tone, clinging to his very soul, but forces it aside so they can get to the heart of the matter. "So now that Pava's alive, what do we do from here?"

"We rescue her, obviously." Karé's glare is incredulous, like she's surprised Poe even had to ask. "I don't know about the rest of you but I'm not leaving Jess in that hellhole any second longer than I have to." Her voice breaks, and Poe is suddenly reminded of how she had cried after Pava's disappearance, lamenting that now she'd never get to tell Pava how she felt about her. "We can't leave her there."

"No one's suggesting we leave her," General Organa says, not unkindly. "Though rescuing her will be complicated. The  _Finalizer_  is one of the more heavily guarded bases in the First Order—our intel claims the base outnumbers us in weapons and manpower at least two to one. A rescue mission will be unbelievably dangerous—"

"I'll do it." For the second time in less than an hour everyone in the room turns to look at him, each person wearing a more disbelieving expression than the last. He can feel his own face going red but is determined to share his plan anyway. "I'll go to the  _Finalizer_ and rescue Pava, General."

Karé nods, looking as though she is trying very hard to be brave. "Me too, General."

"No, I—" He fights the urge to curse. "I meant…I think that I can handle it alone. You said it yourself, General. The base is heavily guarded and I think that the less people we risk on this mission the better."

General Organa raises her eyebrows, and he gets the impression that she can see right through him. Any lesser commanding officer would have written him off as another cocky flyboy, but his motivations don't have anything to do with personal glory. If this mission is as dangerous as General Organa had implied, then he can't risk the lives of his remaining teammates. Not when Pava had been kidnapped on the mission he was supposed to go on, or Snap, whose injury could have been prevented if Poe had been more conscientious. Or even Markus Dinoa, who had sacrificed himself to save Poe on Starkiller Base. He can't lose Karé and Oddy and L'ulo too.

"You know," General Organa says. "Sometimes you remind me a lot of my brother." A wry smile twists her lips. "Luke always insisted on going headfirst into danger if it meant that his friends and family would be safe. But he later learned that any opportunity can present risks—no matter how much you prepare for it—and it's often better to face danger with your friends at your side rather than alone."

"Damn straight," Karé says primly, which makes Oddy and L'ulo laugh. She reaches forward, clasping his hand in hers tightly. "We're in this together, Poe. Together or not at all."

It takes several seconds for the lump in his throat to subside, and he squeezes Karé's hand back. Despite his worry for his friends' safety, he's glad that he will not have to face this challenge alone. "Right," he says with a nod. "General Organa, permission to assemble a squad for the rescue mission of Jessika Pava?"

"Permission granted," says General Organa, the barest twinkle in her eye. "Get your squad ready, Commander Dameron. You'll leave in two days."

"Thank you, ma'am." His mind is already whirring at top speed, picking and choosing the best candidates. They're going to have to keep their squad small otherwise they'll risk getting caught, but him and Karé (who will disembowel him if she's left out of this mission) and a gunner and a mechanic should be enough. Maybe they can pull someone from Cobalt Squadron since Snap and Finn are out of commission—

"And Poe?"

His head snaps up. "Yes, General?"

"May the Force be with you."

* * *

Dawn rises early the next morning, bringing with it a pale yellow sun and his and Rey's first lesson in the ways of the Force. Skywalker escorts them from the Millennium Falcon to the clearing from yesterday, where tiny aliens draped in white sweep the ruins, and then up a mountain. By the time they're finally done walking, Finn's back is aching and even Rey is leaning on her ever-present staff, but Skywalker doesn't even look out of breath.  _He probably does this kind of stuff every day. Then again, so would I if I had nothing to do on this island but talk to the caretakers and shoo those damn birds away._

"What do you know about the Force?"

Finn startles at the question. Skywalker's back is to the sea below as he faces both of them, but he doesn't know who the question had been aimed at. "It's, uh…it's a power that the Jedi have. It makes them fight better, and, uh…"

"And control people," Rey adds, likely drawing inspiration from the Jedi mind trick she'd pulled on her Stormtrooper guard on Starkiller Base. "And…make things float."

Skywalker snorts. "True," he says dryly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "In a broad sense, that is what the Force can help you accomplish. But the Force itself—now there's a far more complicated beast. Sit down. Close your eyes."

They sit. Rey's eyes are shut and her back is ramrod straight, but some of the tension eases out of her muscles when Finn reaches over and squeezes her hand reassuringly. Skywalker raises an eyebrow at Finn, who shuts his eyes as well.

"My master taught me that the Force is an energy field created by all living things. Its energy surrounds us and binds us. You can feel it around you, between you and me, the sky above and the sea below. Reach out. Can you feel it?"

Finn's not sure what he's supposed to be reaching out for—or what he's supposed to be feeling, as a matter of fact—so he casts his mind back to Takodana, where he'd felt the destruction of the Hosnian System from thousands of miles away. He summons his fear and confusion and that strange feeling of  _connection_ , and suddenly feels something at his fingertips. Something not quite liquid or solid, but there all the same. "Yes," he says.

He assumes that Rey has nodded beside him, because Skywalker says, "Good. Now what do you see?"

He concentrates harder. "The island." It's like peering through a fine mist, and he can barely make out the ghosts in the fog. "Life and death, and decay…which feeds new life."

"Warmth," says Rey from beside him. He can picture her clearly in his mind's eye: eyes shut, hair escaping from its buns and fluttering in the wind, hands resting on her knees. He wonders what memory she had called to mind when asked to think of the Force. "And cold. Peace and violence."

"Good." Skywalker's voice comes from far away. "And between it all?"

This time he and Rey speak in unison. "Balance."

"Exactly," Skywalker says, and Finn takes that as his cue to open his eyes again. Everything seems brighter now, sharper and clearer than it had been just a few moments earlier. "Some may be able to harness it better than others, but the Force belongs to everyone. To say that it only belongs to the Jedi is vanity. And a true victory does not mean the Light must triumph over the Dark, or that the Dark must triumph over the Light. For there to be peace, there must be balance—balance like what you two just felt."

"I feel something else," Rey murmurs. Her eyes are still shut and her body language is different—still stiff but somehow relaxed at the same time, as if she is halfway between reality and a dream. "There's something beneath the island, something cold. It's calling to me."

Alarmed, Finn scrambles to his feet and kneels in front of Rey. "Rey, what're you talking about?"

"The darkness," she whispers. The ground feels unsteady beneath him, but when he looks down he realizes that it's not due to fear: the ground is literally trembling, and flakes of rock and pebbles hover around him and Rey. "Can't you feel it?"

"Resist it, Rey." Suddenly Skywalker is by their side, and his very presence seems to make the air around them buzz with something indescribable but undeniably powerful. His voice is urgent but his eyes cannot conceal his fright. "Don't listen to the darkness, Rey. Resist it!"

"I can't." Her voice is trembling, and the ground beneath her begins to crack. More pebbles start hovering, and is it Finn's imagination or are they much sharper than before? "It's strong; it's calling me—"

Before Finn can stop himself, he grabs Rey's hands in his and holds tight, like she is an anchor holding him down to the earth. His vision goes gray, and the hair on his arms stands on end from the sudden cold that dampens his soul and bones, but he refuses to let go. "Don't let the darkness win, Rey," he says, and he can't be sure if she can hear him or not but he refuses to let her suffer alone. "You're stronger than this. You're a survivor. You have to fight it, Rey." His voice breaks. "Don't go where I can't follow."

Suddenly Rey's eyes shoot open, and Finn falls backward as though shoved by a gust of wind. The pebbles hovering around her drop back to the ground, and Finn is plunged back into the warmth of the morning, hot enough in comparison to the bone-chilling cold of earlier that he hisses through his teeth. When he looks up again, Rey is staring at him in horror. "Finn?"

"Rey." He's unable to disguise his relief, and it's a testament to how shaken the both of them are that she doesn't protest when he pulls her into a hug. "Are you alright?" He moves back, his hands on her shoulders. "What happened?"

"I…I don't know. There was…there was a voice calling to me, coming from beneath the island. It was trying to tell me something."

"It offered you something you needed." Both of them turn to Skywalker, whose face has drained of color all but literally, as though he had been cut open and his veins emptied, leaving him bloodless white under his tan. "And…and you managed to stop yourself?"

"I did," Rey says quietly. "I—I was lost, but then I heard Finn's voice, and somehow…I was able to fight the darkness off again."

"Again?"

"I felt something similar when I fought Kylo Ren," Rey admits, and Finn's eyes widen in surprise. She hadn't told him that. "I won our fight. I wanted to strike him down, make him pay, and then I heard this…this voice in my head, trying to persuade me that killing him would make me more powerful than I could ever imagine. But I knew that wasn't right, and I didn't listen." She ducks her head. "And I went back to Finn."

He has no idea what to say in response to that; all he's capable of doing is staring slack-jawed like an idiot. Skywalker seems to be the same boat. "I've seen this kind of raw strength only once before," he says, and who exactly he'd seen it in seems to go without saying. "It didn't scare me then, but now…"

Finn's throat is suddenly dry. "So what happens next?" Considering Skywalker's past attempts at teaching people the ways of the Force, he wouldn't blame the older man if he cancelled their lessons now. "Are you—will you keep teaching us?"

Skywalker has gone still, so still that Finn worries that he had missed the question completely, but then he gives a stiff nod. "Yes." He sounds as though he is trying very hard to mask his terror, but he straightens his shoulders and nods once more. "I understand now why Leia sent you here. Both of you. Your strength and compassion make you the balance that the Force so desperately needs." He swallows hard. "I will teach you. I'll not fail you like I did Kylo Ren."

For a moment, there is nothing but the waves crashing onto the shore far below them. Finn breaks the silence first. "You did everything you could to help him, Master Skywalker," he says. "But there's always a choice. Believe me, I know. Him choosing the First Order and the Dark Side over the Light had nothing to do with you."

"Finn's right," Rey says. Her arms are crossed over her chest and she raises her head. Her determination and strength shine through despite the terror of a few moments ago, and she looks ready to take on the First Order single-handedly. "You didn't fail him, Master Skywalker. He failed you." She meets Skywalker's gaze evenly, and Finn would have had to be blind to miss the conviction in her next statement. "We won't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay, you guys — writer's block, sub-arctic temperatures, and the start of term make for a truly deadly combination. Barring any more complications, we should be back to our regular updating schedule for the next chapter.
> 
> Stay tuned for Chapter IV, in which Finn and Rey experience visions of the past, Slip and Zeroes search through their files, and two sisters have a frank discussion as the squad for Poe's rescue mission is assembled.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the writing for Rose Tico was all over the place in canon and she didn't have a consistent character arc, I've chosen to scrap canon for this fic and do a near-complete redesign of Rose (and Paige, who we unfortunately lost way too soon and never learned much about). Rose and Paige's new backstories will be revealed as the story continues, so be sure to stick around for that.
> 
> But enough talk for now. On with the show!

In the wake of his and Zeroes's speech to the other Stormtroopers, Slip feels as though he's carrying some sort of talisman in his chest, a glowing secret that helps him get through combat training and battlepreps and keeps him steady during the Morning Speeches. The timing of their meetings are unpredictable—sometimes in the afternoon, sometimes in the middle of the night—but Zeroes had claimed that having irregular meetings will make it harder for the higher-ups to suspect something is wrong, so they continue in that vein. More and more Stormtroopers drop by, each one with questions and stories and a resounding desire to rebel like FN-2187 had.

The exact details of their planned rebellion are a little murky. Right now he and Zeroes are focusing on drumming up support from within the ranks and searching for other Troopers to help them take charge of this group of burgeoning rebels. They've got a few so far. BB-2199, a.k.a Bebe, has served on the  _Finalizer_  the longest and has a near-encyclopedic knowledge of everyone on base. Jate (JA-8055) and Levs (JN-0211) might be young but they're hard workers; Levs is a welcome ray of sunshine that can settle any dispute with a smile, and Jate doesn't talk much but when he does, people listen. Now that he and Zeroes aren't alone in this scheme, Slip's got a pretty good feeling about all this. He just hopes it's not misplaced.

Managing the sparks of a Stormtrooper rebellion doesn't exempt him from his duties, but his exhaustion has caused his battleprep scores to dip even further. As a result, General Kilson summons him to his office after the Morning Speech and berates him thoroughly before shunting him to file duty with Zeroes for the day. Slip's just grateful that he won't have to spend another combat training session getting pummeled by Nines, who's using every opportunity to prove that he's just as much of a model Stormtrooper as Finn had been, if not better.

The files room is damp and dusty, with stacks of holofiles scattered across the desks and the shelves and the floor in desperate need of reorganizing. Zeroes's job is to find the necessary files and hand them to Slip, who organizes them by the serial number of the mission or person described. It's tedious, boring work, but they fall into a steady rhythm, and the silence is only broken by the occasional sniff or question.

Or, in this case, Zeroes laughing out loud.

Slip glances over in surprise. "What's up?"

"Did you know that General Hux's name isn't Armitage?" Zeroes holds up a holofile with General Hux's name on the side. "Apparently it's Elan Bartram, but he legally changed it after joining the Academy. Bet he just wanted to sound more intimidating or something."

Slip is more focused on the other pieces of the puzzle to fully appreciate the humor in this situation. "Are you looking through the high-command files?" he asks, horrified. "We're not supposed to be doing that!"

"We're not supposed to be doing a lot of things," Zeroes retorts. Any comment Slip wants to make would just be blatantly hypocritical, so he shrugs as if to say  _fair enough_ and keeps his mouth shut. "Anyway. Aren't you the least bit curious about the information in here?"

Slip's eyes go to the already-organized files in the back of the room, the ones not pertaining to the higher-ups or inventory or any upcoming missions. Those are the Stormtrooper files, organized by squadron. A subtle twitch in Zeroes's jaw tells Slip that they're thinking the same thing, and less than a second later they're in the back of the room, examining the holofiles with the intensity of a CO doing quarters inspections.

"Got it!" Slip grabs a stack of holofiles off the shelf and spreads them out on a nearby table. "These are our files. Zeta Squadron." The files of Delta Squadron, where Nines is assigned, are further up the shelf, but Slip doesn't care much about their former squadmate. Not when the possibility of finding out information on his past is in the palm of his hand. "FN-2000, FN-2003, JA-8055, BB-2199—we're all here."

They both look down at the holofiles, this time like they're a bomb waiting to go off. Slip's glad that he and Zeroes are alone with this discovery. If word had got out amongst the insurgent Troopers that they could find out information about their past, a riot might have started then and there. But now it's just the two of them with a stack of holofiles that could change everything.

"Well." Zeroes picks up one of the holofiles, the one marked  _FN-2000_  in careful print. That's his. After a moment of just holding it, Zeroes releases a breathy laugh and turns to Slip. "Hey. Uh, can you read mine for me?"

Slip understands instantly. The nerves must be overwhelming enough that Zeroes can't make himself read about his past. He feels the same way. "Yeah. And can you read mine for me?"

Zeroes nods, and they exchange holofiles. After another nod from Zeroes, Slip clicks the file open and starts reading out loud. "Stormtrooper FN-2000. Birthdate is 9 ABY. Currently serving on the  _Finalizer._ " His eyes widen and he lets out a low whistle. "Oh, helmet."

"What?" Zeroes's voice is perfectly calm but his grip tightens on Slip's file. "What does it say?"

"Your mother's name is Lithia Turner and your father's name is Henry Kilson."

That takes Zeroes aback, and he moves over to see the file for himself. "Henry Kilson?" he repeats, sounding about as stunned as Slip feels. "As in General Kilson?"

Slip nods even though he doesn't have to; they both know. They also both know that General Kilson's wife's name is Callimina, not Lithia. "Well," he says weakly. "That's something."

Zeroes makes a noise of agreement. "That's something, alright. I'm apparently the bastard son of the biggest hardass in the First Order." Kilson probably saw no issue with taking the son of one of his mistresses and giving him up to the Stormtrooper program. What an asshole. Slip doesn't dare voice his opinion about the high possibility of Zeroes having a bunch of siblings via Kilson running around the First Order, not if he wants to keep whatever semblance of a friendship they have. "Does it say what my, uh, original name was?"

Slip's eyes return to the file in his hands. "Uh, yeah. It was Liddy. Liddy Kilson." He bites his lip as a very dangerous thought comes to mind. "Do you—do you want me to call you that?"

Zeroes's brows furrow in thought. Slip tries to associate the name Liddy Kilson with the man next to him but comes up short. "Think I'll stick with Zeroes," he finally answers. "I've had it long enough; might as well keep it. And I definitely don't want Kilson's name anywhere near mine."

"That's understandable." Slip is surprised when his muttered statement gets a laugh. Then again, he's constantly surprised that the two of them can interact without snapping at each other at all. Now that Zeroes isn't hanging out with Nines and Eight-Seven (no,  _Finn_ , with all the time he goes around talking about Finn the least Slip could do is remember his former squadmate's new name) is gone, they've gotten closer and Slip finds that he enjoys their newfound camaraderie.

"Is there anything else in there?"

"Nah, nothing but battleprep scores and the like, but you were apparently born on Corellia. Then you got inducted when you were a rotation old." Slip hands Zeroes the file so he can read it for himself. He watches his friend scowl at the picture of Henry Kilson, watches his face soften as he reads his mother's name. Then, when it's been almost a minute, Slip ventures, "Could you—"

"Oh! Yeah, sure. Sure." Zeroes opens Slip's holofile and stares at it like he's deciphering advanced math equations. "Stormtrooper FN-2003. Currently serving on the  _Finalizer_. Born on Hosnian Prime in 10 ABY." That's a bit awkward considering the planet (and the entire Hosnian System) just got destroyed by Starkiller Base. "Parents were Uriah and Satomi Maisy. Birth name was Thomas."

"Thomas," he repeats, savoring it. That actually sounds nice. Not nice enough to replace the nickname he's worn for the last several rotations, but nice. And he likes the surname Maisy. "What if I kept the last name but not the first name?"

"Slip Maisy has a nice ring to it," Zeroes concedes. "Though…" His voice trails off, and the unspoken  _though it's too bad you won't be able to go by it as long as you're a Trooper_  is left unsaid _._ "Though I don't think General Kilson or Captain Phasma would think the same."

Speaking of which… "Did you see her file with the others?"

"No. Only one I saw was General Hux's. Maybe she actually is a test-tube Trooper." Zeroes doesn't sound like he believes himself. Being of such a high rank, her file is likely on Supreme Leader Snoke's personal ship, the  _Supremacy_. Finn's probably got incinerated. "What now?"

Slip kind of wants to read the other files but knows that it's none of his business. "We should put these back," he says. It pains him to say it, but there's no way they can take the files out of this room without anyone noticing. Not to mention that it'll be suspicious if every Trooper in Zeta Squadron suddenly puts in a request to be transferred to file duty. And he certainly doesn't want Nines to know about any of this. "All of these should get put back before anyone notices they're gone."

* * *

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

Rose sits up so fast that she hits her head hard on the calcinator she's supposed to be rewiring. She slides out from beneath the set of pipes and machinery with a wince, not at all surprised to see her older sister standing in the doorway with a look that promises the fury of a thousand suns. "My job?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Paige snaps, striding across the room and stopping right in front of Rose. She's dressed in full uniform—sans the bomber cap that Rose had bought her several months ago—and looks every inch the perfect Resistance soldier. Probably just got done running drills with Cobalt Squadron. "What's this I hear from Kaydel about you signing up for Commander Dameron's mission?"

Damn. Rose gets to her feet and offers up her most winning smile, which isn't at all winning since she's covered in grease and grime and grit. "I heard Colonel Kanan saying that they needed a mechanic, so I told her I was available and she signed me up." Actually, Rose had begged Colonel Kanan for the chance after she'd voiced the offer to an entire room full of mechanics, but Paige doesn't need to know that. So she shrugs. "No big deal."

Paige's jaw drops. "No big deal?" she repeats incredulously. "The mission is to rescue one of our own from inside a heavily-armed First Order base! It's crazy dangerous; it's practically a suicide mission!"

"Then why did you sign up?"

Her face goes red.  _Score one for Rose Tico._  "Because they needed a gunner since Captain Wexley's still in the infirmary and Finn is still on his mission from General Organa, so they asked me and I said yes. But—" She holds up her hand as if to stop Rose's comeback in its tracks. "But I've been in the Resistance for years. I've been trained for missions like this. You haven't."

"That doesn't make me any less of an experienced mechanic," Rose argues, even though she knows Paige is right. Doing tune-ups and engine rebuilds in her father's garage since the age of seven isn't the same thing as learning to fix ships while under heavy fire. But she's not about to back down. "I need to do this, Paige. I have to."

"You've only been here for a week, Rose, what could you possibly have to prove?"

"That I'm not someone to be pitied, alright?" Tears come to her eyes for what feels like the hundredth time that week, and she swipes them away with her wrist. "Everywhere I go, it's just been these—these pitying looks and everyone talks about me behind my back and when they do talk to me they just treat me like I'm about to shatter and…" She lets out a shuddering breath. "I need to prove my worth so people will stop treating me like I'm the Resistance's charity case."

All the anger and worry seems to leave Paige at once. "I get it, Rose," she says softly. "Really, I do. And you're an excellent mechanic, but this mission is so dangerous. I've already lost Mama and Papa…" A tear trickles down her cheek, and she pulls Rose into a tight hug. "I couldn't bear to lose you too."

Rose hiccoughs, wiping away the rest of her tears as she pulls away from their hug. "You're not going to lose me," she promises. "Besides, if we're both on this mission, then there's no way it can fail, right?"

That makes Paige laugh, and she taps her knuckles against Rose's chin the same way she did when they were little. "Right," she says with a firm nod. "But the next time you want to sign up for a crazy mission like this, tell me first, okay? I don't want to get a heart attack every time I talk to Kaydel."

Rose can't help but smirk, because this is too good of an opportunity to pass up. "Like you don't already get a heart attack every time you look at her, let alone talk to her."

Paige blushes up to the roots of her hair. "We're just friends," she mumbles, but it's so blatantly unconvincing that Rose just rolls her eyes.

"Uh huh." Rose laughs and dodges Paige's playful attempt to punch her in the shoulder. "Not for lack of trying on your end, right?"

"Oh, shut up."

Rose doesn't even try not to smile.

* * *

Although Finn has spent his entire life training under a variety of teachers (well, if he counts his old commanding officers and combat instruction directors as teachers, which he does) he's never had a teacher quite like Luke Skywalker before. Skywalker works him and Rey hard, yes, but he's patient and level-headed and always gives them a kind word or encouraging smile when they need it the most. Finn's learned so much already, and if this keeps up, he and Rey will return to the Resistance and help take down the First Order in no time.

Three days after arriving on Ahch-To, Skywalker decides that since they've both sufficiently demonstrated that they understand the Force, it's time for their second lesson. "Back in the days of the Old Republic," he says, "the Jedi were forbidden from forming attachments: romantic, platonic, familial. They believed that attachments like those would make you weak, or would lead to jealousy and greed. And, if your loved one was killed, a path straight to the Dark Side."

Finn glances over at Rey almost automatically, whose eyes have flickered over to him as well. He loves Rey more than he's ever loved anyone before, and if that makes him 'weak' in the eyes of the old Jedi Order, then to hell with them. "Seems a bit archaic." He manages to keep his voice light, even if his mind is now consumed with the other half of Skywalker's sentence. If Rey was injured—or killed, Force forbid—would that send him on a downward spiral to the Dark Side?

He's not sure, and that scares him more than anything.

"I agree," Skywalker says, and Finn's head snaps up. "I believe that the Jedi should not be strangers to compassion, especially since they prided themselves on believing that all lives were precious. Having attachments isn't a weakness. It's a strength." He trails off, and Finn wonders if he's thinking of Solo or General Organa. Or his long-dead wife and child. "And the attachment you feel for one another—I believe that it will make you both great Jedi."

Rey swallows hard. "So what does that mean?"

"Well…" And now Skywalker smiles slightly. "You've proven to me that you understand the Force, that you can reach out and feel it around you. If your attachment to one another is as strong as I suspect, I want to see if you can find each other in the Force."

Finn blinks. "Come again?"

What this means, apparently, is that Finn and Rey are sent to separate sides of the island—Rey remains in the valley with Skywalker, and Finn goes down to the Millennium Falcon—and are told to reach out to the Force and see if they can find each other there. If they can do that, then it's proof to Skywalker that they've developed a Force bond with each other. Rey's heard of Force bonds before, and she tells Finn that they allow the communication of feelings, thoughts, and images across distances and grant greater coordination in battle. Essentially, if it works, they'll be more prepared to face down the First Order than ever.

Finn sits outside the Millennium Falcon, eyes closed. Just like earlier, he summons the fear and confusion and that strange sensation of connection he'd felt on Takodana, and in no time he can feel the Force flickering at his fingertips. Not liquid, not solid, but there all the same.

Then he feels stupid. Now what is he supposed to do? Wander the darkness of his own mind searching for Rey? Is he supposed to see her, or just hear her voice? He wishes Skywalker had explained this Force bond thing in more detail.

Just as he's about to call out Rey's name and see what happens, something hazy begins to form in the distance. The faintest, merest shadow of a person. And if he concentrates, he can hear someone speaking, but the words sound muffled and staticky."— _inn? Finn—y—hear—?"_

"Rey?" He steps forward—or, rather, the projection of his mind's consciousness steps forward, searching for the source of the sound, squinting at the shadow. "Rey, is that you?"

" _Finn!"_ Now the voice sounds relieved. The shadow has begun to crystallize into a person, and a very familiar one at that. Rey keeps fading in and out of his sight, but he can see her. And from the way she's staring at him, they must be able to see each other. " _Can you see me?"_

"Yeah. I can see you." He laughs out loud. "Does this mean it worked?"

" _I think so, but—"_  Suddenly Rey's voice cuts off, and although her form is about as substantial as a wisp of smoke he can see the fear in her eyes as clear as day. She disappears and reappears so quickly it's like someone is flicking a light switch on and off in his head. Is their connection breaking? What's happening? " _I see—it's—Finn? I—"_

"Rey? I'm here—what is it, what do you see?" He whirls around, ready to fight off whatever apparition has so terrified the living daylights out of Rey, but an image in the distance makes his heart freeze in his chest.

In the distance is an image the size of a large holoscreen, and it's the only solid, colorful thing in the darkness around him. Finn moves closer, his heart hammering against his ribs, unable to spare a fleeting thought of worry as Rey flickers out and disappears for good. The image is of a crowded town square, filled with people in colorful robes fleeing in all directions. Strange, yet somehow familiar. And he has no idea why.

"I don't understand what this means," he whispers to the image, which is now pulsing like a heartbeat. "Show me."

The image pulses once more, and then suddenly he's tilting forward; the image is widening, bringing with it a tornado that pitches him forward into a whirl of color and shadow. He wants to scream but has no mouth to do so—there is nothing around him but high-pitched noises and colors so bright that they burn his eyes and then—

He feels his feet hit solid ground and stands, shaking, as the blurry shapes around him coalesce and come into focus.

He's in an alleyway now, all dark bricks and grimy asphalt and overflowing garbage cans. Behind him he can hear people wailing and the crackle of blaster bolts flying through the air and the familiar sound of Stormtrooper-issued boots on pavement, but he cannot look away from the person at the back of the alley.

It's an older man in his forties, with brown skin and neatly-trimmed hair that's going gray at the temples. He's got a blaster strapped to his back and his jaw is set in determination, like he's willing to burn the world if it means getting what he wants. When he speaks, desperation colors every syllable. "The time is not to stay and fight, ma'am, you must run!"

"No!" Startled, Finn suddenly notices a woman next to the man. She looks to be around his age, with dark skin and even darker curly hair. She's clothed in a grey tunic and white pants and holds a bundle of blue blankets close to her chest. Her face is streaked with tears but her voice is firm. "I will not run like a frightened child, Wick! Not with Stormtroopers invading this city and certainly not when they have just killed my husband!"

"And what makes you think they will stop there?" Wick snaps, and the woman recoils like she's been slapped. "The New Republic is on its way with its own army to fight back the First Order, but until they successfully retake the city then you must get yourself and Samson to the safe house. The future of this planet depends on it."

There's a beat of tense silence, and then the woman gives a tight nod. "Alright," she says. She hitches the bundle of blankets further up, and it hits Finn like a lightsaber to the back that there's a baby in there. A baby boy who's looking up at his mother with frightened eyes. "We will get as many as we can to safety first, and then—"

"I'm afraid there will be no 'we' in this scenario." Wick pulls the blaster off his back and hands it to the woman. "Take it. You know how to use it far better than I."

"Wick—no, we must go together! I'll not leave you here!"

"I swore to give my life for you and your family if necessary, ma'am." Wick presses a fatherly kiss to the woman's forehead. "Though I promise that I have no intention of dying tonight."

"Wick—"

"Go on, Velle. I'll get as many people as I can to safety. I'll see you again soon."

After a moment of hesitation, Velle nods once more and runs out of the alley without looking back.

Then the scene flickers, and Finn finds himself in a throng of people that are pushing shoving and trying their best to run away from the Stormtroopers that seem to be around every corner. Velle cradles her baby against her chest with one hand and fires her blaster at approaching Troopers with the other. She presses herself flat against a statue of two Twi'leks holding hands, her chest heaving. "Hush now, hush now," she whispers to her baby, who is crying. "It'll be alright, my love, we'll be safe in a moment."

Finn's heart is hammering against his ribs even hard, and he bites the inside of his cheek so hard that he tastes blood. He knows where he's seen this woman before now. She'd been in that vision of his from Jakku, right before he'd heard that voice say  _These are your first steps, Finn._ But she'd been on the ground then, and now—

Finn suddenly realizes what'll happen a second before it does, but that's not enough time to reach through space and time and stop the Stormtrooper across the square from shooting Velle in the shoulder.

Velle collapses like a marionette whose strings have been cut, the blaster falling out of her hand. The skin around her left shoulder is singed and bleeding, and the baby wails from the mess of blue blankets. It starts wailing even more as a Stormtrooper carelessly steps over Velle and plucks the baby from her arms, walking away without another glance.

"No!" Finn snaps out of whatever trance had frozen his muscles and takes off at a sprint after the Stormtrooper. Logically he knows that this is all in his mind and he can't do anything to help Velle or the baby, but he cannot stand by and do nothing. "No, stop it—hey!"

He's just reached the Stormtrooper when the world around him begins to whirl and everything goes dark. He feels himself falling, and, with a crash, lands spread-eagled on the ground, knocking the air out of him.

Once he's down gulping down lungfuls of air the way a man dying of thirst drinks water, he starts to calm down and takes stock of everything around him. He's back outside the Millennium Falcon, back on Ahch-To. It's still sunny outside, which means that he hasn't been gone for long—if he had even gone anywhere.

What had that been? Some strange side effect of his and Rey's Force bond? But he knows that's not right—and he also knows that whatever had made Rey so frightened is not at all what he'd seen. The Force must have shown them both strange visions, and he has no idea what to do with this information.

He tries to remember his vision, but it's all fading together into a jumble of color and noise. A man with a blaster. A woman crumpling to the ground. A statue and a plaza filled with people and Stormtroopers. A baby crying from a mess of thick blue blankets. And an all-encompassing sense of familiarity, but not just because he'd caught a glimpse of those events on Jakku. It's almost like he's  _lived_  through that before.

It hadn't been a vision or a Force-dream. It had been a memory. And if his instincts are correct, that baby must have been him. And that means that the woman must have been his mother.

_Kriffing hell._

* * *

_Through the Force, things you will see. Other places. The future...the past. Old friends long gone._

Aggravating though Yoda had been, Luke still thinks of him and his lessons from time to time. How Yoda and Ben had tried to warn him of the Dark Side and the unknown consequences of him leaving Dagobah to find Leia and Han. How he hadn't listened and ended up with confusion, pain, and unwanted familial revelations. (Mara used to say that Yoda should have offered him a hand; intentional pun or not, that always made him laugh.)

But now that he's separated Finn and Rey to see if they've developed a Force bond like he suspects they have, this lesson of Yoda's comes to mind. He has no idea why until Rey, who's sitting near one of the stone structures not far from him, suddenly goes pale and starts shaking. At first he worries that the Dark Side is tempting her again, but then he realizes that she's having a Force-vision just like he had on Dagobah—though of the future or past, he doesn't know.

"Rey?" Saying the name that had belonged to his daughter still hurts after all these years, but he pushes through the pain and repeats himself. "Rey, can you hear me?"

She makes no indication that she can. He's not surprised; during his Force-vision he'd gone blind and deaf to the real world, and his sole focus had been on the ghosts before his eyes. But Force-visions tend to break down people's defense, and since Finn isn't around, she's even more vulnerable to an attack from the Dark Side.

He'd lost his nephew to the Dark Side. He will not lose this girl too.

He closes his eyes, channeling the memories of his tangible connection to his sister, to Han, to Mara, even to his father. He feels like he's in a glass box, but as he pushes and concentrates harder, cracks begin to form and light begins to seep through. A familiar sensation hums at his fingertips, and it feels like taking a deep breath after an eternity in a vacuum, like he's been asleep for decades and is only now returning to himself.

There are hints of a gray aura inches away from him. Rey's aura. He reaches toward the aura, intending to bring Rey out of her trance and back to herself. Back from the Dark Side.

He makes contact, and in the blink of an eye everything disappears.

* * *

She's on Jakku again, but she can't be. She  _knows_ it can't be real because she's supposed to be on Ahch-To with Finn and Master Skywalker, and even the Force can't make someone teleport across thousands of miles of space. This must be a dream, or like that strange series of visions she'd glimpsed in Maz's basement on Takodana. But this time she can't move or speak or even breathe; all she can do is stare.

Unkar Plutt is there, still fat and disgusting and sneering like he thinks everyone in the galaxy is beneath him. But Rey's attention isn't on the alien; it's on the woman speaking to him. She's tall, with fair skin and reddish-auburn hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She looks hardened but weary, as though she's spent the last thousand years being chased across the galaxy, and she pulls her brown cloak tighter around her even though it's got to be stifling hot. "I'll be back soon," she says, and then she waves her hand. "You'll watch over her until then."

"I'll watch over her until then," Unkar Plutt echoes dutifully, which is strange because he's never that polite to anyone. Rey doubts it's genuine, but then the woman kneels down and her heart stops in her chest because that's  _her_ , that's her younger self. And that means—that means—

"Mama, don't go," the younger Rey pleads. Her hair is in its usual three buns and she's wearing a simple cloth tunic with a brown belt wrapped around her waist. Rey remembers that outfit. She'd fashioned it into a face mask after it became too small. "Mama, don't leave me here, please—"

"Oh, sweetheart." The woman sounds on the verge of tears. "I won't be gone for long, alright? I promise. I need to tell your father where you are, and then we'll both come back for you once it's safe. Do you understand?"

Little Rey sniffles. "I understand."

"Good." The woman reaches out and hugs her like Rey is the only thing she's got left in the world. Once she pulls away, both she and Rey are crying. "Stay here, Rey. I'll come back for you. I'll be back, sweetheart. I promise."

And then it's a sight that has become all too familiar, that has haunted her nightmares for the last fourteen years—the starship taking off, Unkar Plutt's meaty hand on her wrist as she thrashes and screams for the ship to come back—but this time her head is swimming with so much information that she wants to scream.

_Mama. I called that woman Mama, and she told me she'd come back for me, and that means…_

_It means nothing._  Rey jumps at the sound of a familiar voice in her head, soft and coaxing and poisonously sweet.  _But listen to me, and I will give you all the answers you desire._

All the answers she desires, but none of the answers she needs. This had to be the Dark Side trying to taunt her, trying to bait her into turning away from the Light. But she won't turn, not even for the promise of an explanation of what she just witnessed. She's not the type to be swayed by empty words and even emptier promises. She's a survivor. A warrior.

Just like Finn.

Rey's eyes shoot open, and the next several seconds are spent gasping for air and getting her bearings back. She's still on Ahch-To, still surrounded by those strange alien caretakers and those nuisance birds, and that means that Finn is nearby too, which is reassuring. The vision seems to have been engraved into her mind, and she can't unsee it.

Not that she wants to, anyway. She needs answers. That woman had been her mother, and she needs to know more. Why had she left her with Unkar Plutt? Had they been in danger? And why had she never come back?

Too late, she notices that Skywalker's eyes are on her, and she scrambles to her feet. "Master Skywalker," she says. Her fear is fading into a bundle of nervous excitement. Skywalker's wise; maybe he can help her figure out the details of that long-suppressed memory. "I don't know what happened—Finn and I were able to find each other in the Force, but then…then I had this strange vision."

Skywalker doesn't reply. In fact, he doesn't seem to be able to speak. He's gone pale, and his eyes are so wide that she can see the whites all around. The air around them seems to hum with tension—but no, it's not tension. This is something far more tangible, more powerful. The Force.

Rey gasps as the answer hits her. It's not just her connection to the Force that's making the air around them buzz; it's  _Skywalker's._ He must have sensed her inner struggle with the Dark Side and had reconnected with the Force to try and help her. She has no idea how to feel about that—in fact, she's a little peeved that he hadn't believed in her ability to snap out of it herself—but she's mostly just excited that her childhood hero has the Force again. "You've reconnected to the Force! That's amazing!" Her excitement quickly gives way to curiosity and worry when Skywalker doesn't answer. "Are you alright?"

No response. For a moment she wonders if he's just having trouble adjusting after so long without the Force, but quickly dismisses the notion. There has to be another reason why he's staring at her like he's seen a ghost—

 _Oh kriff. Did he see my struggle with the Dark Side? Is that why he looks so afraid?_ Her heart clenches in her chest.  _Or did he see my Force-vision? Did he know my mother?_

She looks up again just in time to see Skywalker get up and walk toward the nearest stone structure, slamming the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dunnnnn… ;)
> 
> Stay tuned for Chapter V, in which Luke reveals a long-kept secret, Rey reacts poorly, and Finn decides to track down his family.


	5. Chapter 5

The door slamming shut behind Skywalker had surprised her—mostly because she hadn't expected him to just up and leave like that—but seconds later Rey finds herself storming into the stone hut right after him. Inside is a cot, a table, a few chairs, and a woefully inadequate-looking stove. One of the little alien caretakers who had been sweeping the floor in front of the fireplace picks up their broom and exits the room with a huff.

Skywalker is sitting at the table, his muscles taut and head bowed. Something is clearly wrong, and for a moment her sympathy for the older man supersedes her desire to understand her vision. "Master Skywalker?" she says again, taking a step forward cautiously like he's a happabore about to charge. "Are you…are you alright?"

Just like earlier, there's no response. He lifts his head, and he looks as though he's aged a thousand years since he'd left her in that clearing. His eyes are red, full of barely-concealed pain, and it makes the breath catch in her lungs. But if he's not going to answer, then she's not going to make him. Not when there's still so much that she doesn't understand.

"I had a vision," she says, even though he already knows this. "While Finn and I were trying to find each other in the Force. It was…strange. Very strange. More like a memory or a dream than a vision, really." He doesn't ask what it was of, but she rushes to fill the silence anyway. "I saw my family leaving me on Jakku. With Unkar Plutt." Her lip curls instinctively as she says the alien's name, but her disdain doesn't last for long. "And there was a woman there. I think she was my mother—I mean, I called her Mama so she  _must_  have been my mother. She said she'd come back for me once it was safe, so…"

 _So she must have left to protect me._  That realization hits Rey like a punch to the chest, bringing with it an old pain and grief and—oddly enough—relief. Her family had cared about her. They'd loved her. They'd left her on that awful planet in a last-ditch attempt to keep her safe, and they had wanted to come back for her.  _So why didn't they?_

_Stay here, Rey. I'll come back for you. I'll be back, sweetheart. I promise._

"I need to figure out who that woman was," Rey says, and then nods as if to corroborate her own point. Yes, that's the best course of action. "Where she went, why she didn't come back for me, her name—"

"Mara."

Skywalker's voice—hoarse and raspy, like he's spent a week scavenging in the ruins of a starship with no water—takes Rey by surprise, and she looks over at him with a frown. "What?"

"Mara," he repeats. Fragile and strong all at once, like he's holding onto his composure by the skin of his teeth. "The woman in—in your memory. Her name was Mara Jade."

Mara Jade. There's not a flicker of uncertainty in Skywalker's face, no hint that he's kidding, which means that he must be telling the truth. Maybe by reconnecting to the Force he'd seen her vision, but how would he know her mother's name unless… "Did you know her?"

"Yes." He sounds like he's forcing the answer out of the depths of his soul, but at least he's talking again. And he's telling her about her mother, which means she couldn't look away even if she wanted to. "She was…a strong fighter. Loyal, and brave, and funny. And she always gave her best at everything she did."

Something about the way he describes Mara makes Rey uneasy. "Who was she to you?"

She's expecting  _my friend,_  or  _a fellow rebel,_ or even  _a former enemy._ But Skywalker just inclines his head and, without even meeting her eyes, whispers, "My wife."

For a single heartbeat, Rey forgets how to breathe. Crazily, she's tempted to ask if Skywalker is joking. But then his head comes up again, and his eyes meet hers, and she knows down to her bones that he's not lying. Mara Jade, her mother, had been his wife. And that means that he's…that he's…

The entire world has fallen out of orbit; it spins with dizzying speed, and Rey inhales sharply in an effort to suppress the nausea welling up inside her. The news seems to tear into her with a ferocity that is unparalleled even by the worst sandstorms on Jakku, the ones that could rip through solid metal and choke a man to death.

" _I won't be gone for long, alright? I promise. I need to tell your father where you are, and then we'll both come back for you once it's safe. Do you understand?"_

"And who am I to you?" she manages, even though her voice is barely audible, so close to crumbling to dust. Even though part of her already knows the answer.

The pause lasts for what feels like an eternity. The universe expands, collapses, and bursts outward again. "My daughter." He gives a laugh that sounds more like a sob. "You're my daughter, Rey."

And Rey—

Rey can't breathe. Can't think, can't move. All that's left is the shock that's holding her heart in a grip tight enough to bruise. Everything around her—the flames roaring in the fireplace, the chirping of the birds and the voices of the caretakers outside—has fallen away, her world winnowing down to Skywalker and the admission that is still ricocheting in her head like a blaster bolt in a metal box.

Luke Skywalker, the hero of the rebellion, the scourge of the Galactic Empire, the Jedi Knight that is more myth than man, is her father.

"No," she whispers. Her chest is heaving and the blood rushing through her ears pounds a staccato against her brain. This can't be true; it  _can't._  She's just a scavenger from Jakku who stumbled and fell into this whirlwind adventure. She can't be his daughter. She can't be a Skywalker. "No. That's not…that can't—you can't be my…"

"Rey." Skywalker's voice is soft, barely audible. He's stood up from the table and now he's the one moving toward her with caution. "I am. Mara is—she was your mother. And I'm your father."

But she's shaking her head before he's even done talking. A new feeling has crept past her defenses, boiling the blood in her veins that had frozen from the earlier wave of world-tilting shock. Anger. "No," she repeats, her voice much louder now. "You can't be—you can't be my father. You—you left me there! You left me alone on Jakku! A father is—a  _family_ is always supposed to come back, and you never did! Neither of you did!" Her breathing is getting noticeably more erratic, her breaths coming fast and shallow. "I don't have a family. I can't!"

"Rey." Skywalker reaches out for her but she pushes back from him. There's not enough air in here and nothing makes sense. She needs to leave, she needs to run as far away from here as possible. Anywhere is better than here. "Rey, please wait—"

But Rey's already gone.

* * *

Finn's just reached the valley (and his muscles are aching something fierce from hiking nearly a mile up the rocky mountain) when a blur of brown and green and gray slams into him, sending him flying back into the dirt. Once his vision adjusts and he notices that it's Rey on top of him, his irritation at being knocked down is quickly replaced with worry. Especially since he sees that she's on the verge of tears. "Rey? Are you okay?"

She doesn't answer; she's shaking and her heart is beating so hard that he can feel it through her clothes. "I need to get out of here," she says, her voice hoarse from tears and panic. "I can't stay here. I need to leave. I—Skywalker—he—"

"Whoa, wait, what are you talking about? Why do you need to leave? What did Master Skywalker say to you?" Never mind that Skywalker is a Jedi and could probably beat him in a fight with one hand tied behind his back: if he'd hurt Rey in any way then he'll have Finn to answer to. "Rey?"

She inhales sharply, sitting back and swiping a hand under her eyes almost violently, as if she's trying to erase all the evidence of her tears. Finn offers her his hand, which she takes with a grateful squeeze. Then her eyes meet his, and she whispers, "He's my father."

Finn's entire world grinds to a halt. "What? Who is?"

"Master Skywalker. He's my…my father. He told me."

Kriffing hell. Luke Skywalker—the savior of the Rebellion and the scourge of both the Galactic Empire and the First Order—is Rey's father. That can't be true. Can it?

His brows furrow. Well, if he thinks about it—if he casts his mind back to the holos and posters of Luke Skywalker that he'd seen on D'Qar and in the First Order—he can sort of see the resemblance. They've got the same wispy hair, the same nose and jaw. The same smile. The same innate kindness and determination to do the right thing no matter the odds. Maybe it really is true.

While Finn continues to try and process this new piece of information, Rey looks down at her knees and releases a shaky breath. "Something happened when I saw you in the Force. One second you were there, and the next I had this…this vision. I saw my mother abandoning me on Jakku."

His heart seizes in his chest. So Rey had had a vision too. And just like him, she'd caught a glimpse of her family. This is too strange to be a coincidence, and he wonders if the unresolved secrets of their past had been what had broken apart their Force connection. Then the rest of Rey's words hit him. "Your mother? What was she like?"

"I didn't…I didn't get to see much. But she was—she looked fierce. And beautiful. And she promised she and my father would come back for me, but they never did." She sounds close to dissolving into tears again. "And Master Skywalker saw my vision. He—he reconnected to the Force and saw my vision, and that's how I found out he knew my mother and that he..." She trails off, but the implied  _that he's my father_ hangs heavily in the air. "And I got so…so angry and frightened all at once when he told me, and I couldn't be in the same room with him any longer. So I ran. Right into you."

"Do you…" He hesitates, unsure of how to say it. Unsure if he wants to hear her answer. "Do you still want to leave?" He did promise that if she ever wanted to go back to Jakku he'd take her there. He hadn't thought she'd take him up on the offer once their adventure had began, but now…

"I don't know," she admits. Relief hits him so hard that if he hadn't been sitting down he might have fallen over. "I just…" Her voice goes soft, barely audible. "Why didn't he come back for me, Finn?"

He slides closer and puts his arm around her, and she leans back against him like the weight of every planet in the Outer Reaches is pressing down on her shoulders. He searches his mind for something reassuring, but comes up with a memory instead. "Remember what Solo said? Snoke threatened Master Skywalker's family, so he told his wife to take their kid and go into hiding. And then Snoke…"

He can't say it, but Rey can. "Snoke said that he killed them."

"Yeah. And Solo said Master Skywalker spent months trying to find them, but he couldn't." He can sense that this is bringing up bad memories for Rey of Solo's murder, so he changes the subject. "What I'm saying is, he must have wanted to come back for you. He tried. But he just couldn't find you." He lets some humor slide into his voice. "And Jakku's a little out of the way of everything."

That prompts a laugh. A small one, but he counts it as a victory anyway. "It's really not that remote, you know."

He holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I'll take your word for it."

For a second, there's silence except for the chirping of the porgs that are waddling by. Then Rey says, "I'm still angry with him."

It's almost like a confession. A confession that Finn does not know how to respond to. "That's okay," he says. "You're allowed to be as angry as you want with him."

"I know. But what I feel—it's not all anger. It's sadness, fear, grief. Confusion. Even a little happiness because I finally have  _some_ answers. It's all a swirling mess of emotion that I don't know how to handle." She presses her lips together. "I don't know how I feel, or how I  _want_ to feel. Or if I can even accept him as my father yet."

"That's okay too." He takes her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles. "And no matter what you decide, I'm here for you."

"I know." Her smile is tiny, but it's genuine. "Thank you, Finn."

"Anytime, Rey."

* * *

Skywalker is waiting for them both in the valley, and he looks so damn relieved to see that Rey hasn't fled the island (and no longer looks as angry or devastated as she had before) that it makes Finn somewhat uncomfortable. As neither Rey nor Skywalker know what to say to each other, Finn fills the silence for the next several minutes with an explanation of the Force-vision he'd experienced. By the time he's done, both Skywalker and Rey are staring at him, their mouths open in identical expressions of shock. "And you're sure that that woman was your mother?"

"Positive," Finn says. He knows it down to his very bones. "I don't know who the other man was," nor does he remember the man's name, "but I have a feeling he was family too. In some way or another." He pauses, waiting for the information to register before he drops his next bombshell. "And I want to find them."

Much to his surprise, Skywalker doesn't react outwardly, almost like he'd expected Finn to say that. "Did you see where they were? Your family."

Finn doesn't understand the question. "What do you mean?"

"Many years ago, when I was training with Master Yoda, I had a vision that Leia and…and Han were in trouble. I saw them in a city in the clouds, on Bespin. When you saw your family—your mother and that other man—did you know where they were?"

"It was a city," he says after a moment's pause, even though it's not much of an answer. "Old buildings, cobblestone streets. There was…there was a plaza. My mother took me there when she tried to make a run for it. She hid behind a statue." He closes his eyes, trying to call up the memory. "The statue was of two Twi'leks holding hands. I remember that. But I don't remember what that city was called, or even what planet it's on. Neither of them mentioned it." With the answers so close yet so far away, he feels like cursing, and he opens his eyes again. "Do either of you know?"

It's a long shot, and he's not surprised to see Rey shake her head. Skywalker, on the other hand, has his brow furrowed in thought. "That statue that you saw. Was it old and gray and made of marble?"

He pauses again. "Yeah. I think so." He'd only seen it for the briefest of seconds, but from what he remembers it had certainly looked like it had stood there for a hundred years at least. And it'd been carved from material the same color as the tunic his mother had been wearing. "Why? Do you—do you know where it is?"

"The only city I know with a statue like that in a plaza is Galfridian City," Skywalker says. "It's in the capital of Artorias, an Outer Rim planet. My wife and I…" His eyes shift to Rey, whose shoulders go stiff. "We were there with some friends of ours almost thirty years ago. On…diplomatic business."

Hope swells in the pit of his stomach even as he knows his next sentence will not go over well. "Then I have to leave. I have to go to Galfridian City and find my family; I need to—"

"Finn." Hearing Luke Skywalker say his name is still so strange that it stops his rambling in its tracks. "I understand what it's like to want to find your family. Believe me, I do. But that vision you had was of events more than twenty years ago. How do you know if your mother is still alive?"

His mother's scream fills his ears again and it's all he can do to keep from shuddering. "I don't," he says. "But if there's a chance that my family is still out there, I need to find them. I know it's the right thing to do."

A pause, then, "He's right." Both Skywalker and Finn turn to look at Rey, and she meets their gazes unflinchingly. It's one of the things he's always loved about her. "Finding his family—even if the odds are against him—is the right thing to do." He has a feeling that she's talking about far more than his situation, but she presses on before he can say anything. "I'll take you to Galfridian City, Finn."

Finn's eyes don't pop out of his head, but it's a near thing. "What?"

"I'll take you there," Rey repeats. She crosses her arms over her chest, her hand briefly brushing against the lightsaber holstered at her side. "I'll fly you in the Millennium Falcon. And once we get there, we can work on finding information about your family."

"Rey, I…" Her use of 'we' had not escaped his attention, and while he's mostly grateful for her support, part of him wonders whether or not she's using this as an excuse to escape another uncomfortable confrontation with Skywalker. "Are you sure? I mean, General Organa sent us here to train—just because I'm going doesn't mean you have to too."

Her gaze moves to Skywalker, who had taken a step backward to give them some space and now meets her eyes with a nod. "I said I'd train you both, and I will," he says. Then he pauses, lowering his voice so Finn can barely hear him. "Rey. If you—if this is because of…of what I told you—"

"It's not," Rey says, even though she doesn't sound like she believes herself. "I want to help him find his family. Besides," and this is more directed at Finn, "it's not like there any other way to get off this planet, and I'm the only one that knows how to pilot the Falcon."

It's very logical reasoning, but Finn isn't ruling out the possibility of an ulterior motive. Neither, apparently, is Skywalker. "I understand," he says. "But please know that…that I'm sorry for any hurt and confusion I caused you earlier. I'm happy to just be your teacher, if that's all you want."

Now it's Finn's turn to take a step back, as he knows for sure that he has no place in this conversation. Rey has gone so still that a stiff breeze could knock her down, and when she speaks her voice is very quiet. "And what do you want?"

"I just want to get to know you."

The answer is so pure and simple that Finn finds himself caught off guard. He can't find any insincerity in the older man's voice or expression. Apparently neither can Rey, who presses her lips together before averting her eyes once more.

Skywalker clears his throat. "If it's as dangerous as you say it is out there, you probably shouldn't search for longer than three days," he says to Finn. "The longer the Millennium Falcon's out in the open, the better chance the First Order has of finding you."

Finn remembers Solo saying something similar not long ago and is unexpectedly melancholy at the thought. Still, he forces past the twinge of grief and says, "Then we'll be back in three days." Three days isn't nearly enough time to search an entire city for a woman whose name he doesn't even remember, but surely Galfridian City has records of missing children and the event he witnessed. Between him and Rey, they'll figure it out. "And then we'll come back and finish training with you." He glances over at Rey, who nods. "You have our word."

To his surprise, a smile tugs at the corner of Skywalker's mouth. "I remember saying the same thing to my own master before I left to save Han and Leia all those years ago." His gaze goes solemn. "I hope your journey comes to a better conclusion than mine did."

Finn raises his eyebrows. "Why, what happened?"

"I lost a hand and found out Darth Vader was my father," Skywalker deadpans. "Bit of a rough day."

"Oh." Finn feels himself blushing, and Rey looks very amused at his discomfort. "Yeah. I—yeah. I can see why."

Skywalker's clearly amused too, but he hides it well. "If you set out at dawn, you should make it to Artorias by mid-afternoon. That'll give you plenty of time to start your search."

"Right." Somehow the sun is already setting around them—how had the day gone by so quickly? And they'll need to pack, not to mention let R2-D2 (who's been watching the ship and monitoring any contact from the Resistance for the last few days) know what's going on.

"I'll come by in the morning to see you off," Skywalker says. He glances over at Rey again. "Is that alright?"

For a moment, she looks the same way she had back on Jakku when Finn had first asked her if she was alright — like the notion of someone caring about her is too foreign to make sense of. "Yes," she says, not unkindly. "That's alright."

"Alright." He pulls his hood up over his head, giving them one last searching look. "I'll see you both then."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *ducks flung objects* I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. Writer's block and real life have hit me hard these last couple months, but now that school is finally winding down I'll be able to update more regularly again.
> 
> Thank you all for your lovely response to the last chapter; I hope this one was worth the wait!
> 
> Stay tuned for Chapter VI, in which Finn and Rey arrive on Artorias, Rey makes a crucial decision, and Finn finds the answers he's been searching for.


End file.
